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enter the halls of Hell through the Queen's prose

it matters not
the lines
the screaming
the pain
it’s everywhere
why?
no one cares
somewhere
maybe they do
breezes on the beach
wind in your hair
why can’t it be?
I would die
a thousand times
just for this
once
my heart would be
so full
love
it’s all that matters

THE QUEEN OF HELL

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she could feel
all the lines
every ache
in every pore
the skin cracked
bleeding at the seams
droplets on the carpet
it was so dark
and the impression of it
was heavy
weighted
it didn’t seem to
make any sense
it was quiet
as if deep inside
a tomb
but her labored breaths
hung in the air
filling the room
with the only sound
except the plops
lightly
hitting the ground
the floor ablaze
pooling
with crimson fluid

THE QUEEN OF HELL

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“Murder is murder no matter who commits it…or why.” – Casey Novak, Law & Order SVU

They told me I was crazy but I know I’m not.
When I saw him step outside that coffee shop I went cold.
I remembered every detail of his face.
It had been ingrained in my memory since the day he abducted me 5 years ago.
Nothing would make that nightmare go away.
And how could they have let him go free?
They said it was consensual, I didn’t fight back, I never protested.
But he had drugged me, restrained me, gagged me…how could I?
I still have no idea how long I was there.
They said it was just a few days but it felt like weeks.
He was always there…talking to me, touching me, kissing me…
and yes, raping me.
So many times.
The first time I felt like I was being ripped apart.
So much pain.
After a while I just went numb.
I’m pretty sure I blacked out a few times.
But he wouldn’t shut up.
The whole time, every time, he kept talking.
How he loved me.
How we’d be together forever.
I just didn’t know it yet.
How he’d always watched me.
Stalker.
I’d felt for a while I was being followed but…
I shrugged it off.
He had to show me how good he was for me.
This was his insane way of proving it?
I just had to get used to him and everything would be ok.
I never said a word even after he removed the gag though he screamed at me…
beat me harder for my silence.
I didn’t care.
I just wanted to die.
Next thing I knew I was in the hospital.
I don’t remember much for days after that, not even how I got there.
He had left the basement window open just to get some fresh air.
Someone says they heard me screaming.
They said I was almost dead when they found me.
Still he got off.
Someone forgot to sign something somewhere in the proper spot and he was released on a technicality.
I remember screaming at him in court.
He looked at me with no expression, no emotion.
Said I enjoyed it…
and that he still loved me.
That eventually I would come to understand.
I never felt safe after that.
I tried moving, even changed my name.
But he was everywhere, I saw him in everyone.
I could hardly even leave my apartment.
5 years of torture and he was still free.
Seeing him after so long brought it all back.
My knees started to buckle…
I almost passed out but managed to grab onto a corner bench next to me and sat down.
He was on his phone, didn’t see me, but I somehow came to my senses.
I followed him all the way home.
They didn’t find us for 5 days.
Seems as his boss complained that he’d missed work.
He didn’t see me sneak up behind him.
When he opened the door I shoved him inside and he fell.
There was a lamp right inside on a table and I picked it up…
knocked him out with it.
I left fingerprints everywhere.
He woke up after I’d dragged him onto the bed and tied him up.
On his back.
He tried screaming through the duct tape I found but I couldn’t understand.
Didn’t want to…
didn’t care.
I needed something…long & hard.
Sodomy with a coke bottle is apparently not a thing he enjoys.
I wanted him to suffer as much as I had all those years ago.
Over and over again.
I screamed at him, beat him with his belt until he bled.
Found a baseball bat in his closet and smashed his knees.
Started beating his head with it.
That’s when he passed out for good.
Even then I couldn’t stop myself.
I started crying.
His head was nothing by then but a mangled, pulpy mess…
so much blood
Everything I did to him made me remember even more vividly what he did to me.
Still…I didn’t care.
And I didn’t stop.
Not til the cops dragged me away.
They couldn’t help me, couldn’t protect me or anyone else from him.
What if he’d done it to someone else?
They had no proof of that but it’s always possible.
I confessed.
Never went to trial.
I laughed during the whole process.
I was just glad he was dead.
They told me I was crazy.
No…I’m not.

THE QUEEN OF HELL

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Little Billy walked home from school that day, same as every day, past the old playground next to the abandoned church. Not sure why it was even still around…there were weeds everywhere and all the equipment was falling apart. Only one swing on the swingset was still intact. As he passed by he could hear the chains squeaking when the wind blew upon it. He wasn’t sure why but it creeped him out a lot. He wished he didn’t have to go anywhere near it but it was the quickest way home.
He had left school later than usual because Tommy was waiting for him outside the doors. Tommy was the school bully and he knew if he’d left when he was supposed to right after school he’d have been in really bad shape by the time he got home. It had happened before and he didn’t want to deal with that again so he waited, watching out the window till it got darker and he saw that Tommy had left. Walking past the playground now that night it was even scarier. The setting sun cast shadows on the ground and the swing creaked loudly in the early evening breeze. He suddenly had the strange feeling he was being watched…he then thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye but he was afraid to look back, then he heard a noise and turned around fast.
There was a doll sitting on the swing, one of those old baby-doll ones with a sort-of clowns face drawn on it. It hadn’t been there a second ago. He wanted to scream but couldn’t…he just closed his eyes & turned around. But when he dared himself to look back it was gone, only the swing was swaying and creaking. He heard an evil laugh coming from the old church then turned and ran all the way home.
He was in a panic by the time he reached his house, breathing hard and panting. No one was home yet but his older brother…he thought about telling him about it but he knew he’d just laugh at him & call him a cry-baby. As older brothers go he was pretty typical so he tried to put it out of his head. He was ok through dinner, doing his homework & everything else until he tried to go to bed later. Once all the lights were off and it was quiet, he could still hear the squeaky swing. Then he heard it again, that evil cackle right outside his window. He was terrified, afraid to move but forced himself out of bed and slowly peeking out the window he saw the doll in his yard. He stood there, petrified, as he saw its head move and it looked up at him, grinning wildly as he noticed movement behind it…and that’s when Billy realized the doll had brought friends.

THE QUEEN OF HELL

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I’ve been down here for weeks now
maybe months
I can’t really be sure
time means nothing anymore
I get so hungry sometimes
and he doesn’t feed me much
it’s always cold
and tastes like shit
but it’s better than nothing
I stopped crying a while ago
even speaking
it does no good
he never pays attention
I don’t know him
and I still don’t know
why I’m here
not even sure
how I got here
in this dirty hole
I have no memory
of anything
he hasn’t been here at all
lately
the rancid air is so thin
and light here is bad
just a little brightness
through the small door window
high above
I almost didn’t see the rat
but I heard it in the corner
there isn’t enough room in this box
for both of us
and I was so hungry
it didn’t taste as bad as I thought

THE QUEEN OF HELL

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Brenda sat on the couch, silently staring at the man passed out in the recliner. The tears on her face had dried, leaving only feelings of anger mixed with her physical pain.
He had abused her in ways no father should. Even worse, he let his friends take turns…after the first two or three she had lost count of how many times her bedroom door had opened and shut during the night. She honestly didn’t even know who they were because she kept her eyes closed the whole time until she heard their cars leaving early in the morning.
Feeling somewhat safe then she half dressed & had ventured out into the living room but he was still awake, sitting on the couch drunk and cleaning his revolver. When he saw her he laughed and asked her how she enjoyed the previous nights festivities. When she began to cry he got angry, threw her on the couch, ripped off her panties, shoved his gun inside her and told her if she ever said a word about it he would kill her. Then he smiled, cuffed her, pulled off his pants and started all over again.
Watching him sleep she wondered how easily it might be to kill him, but something deep inside told her not to. He was her father after all and in some sick, perverted, twisted way she knew he loved her. But what he did to her was wrong. If her mother was still alive she would’ve never allowed it but mom died when she was 8…the abuse started soon after. She was 13 now & had started to develop early…way more than most of the other girls her age which brought her a lot of unwanted attention. She didn’t understand why the boys kept staring at her but if it had anything to do with what her father did to her constantly she wanted no part of it.
His gun was still laying on the table but she wasn’t quite sure how it worked. He had never taught her how to use it and she didn’t want to just harm him, she wanted him dead. There were all those knives in the kitchen too but she didn’t want to stab him in the wrong spot because if it didn’t kill him then what’s the point.
She really wasn’t sure what to do so she thought maybe while he was still asleep should take a walk to clear her head. Maybe she would think of something.

They lived about two blocks from the train station in a very run down part of town. Most of the houses in their area were either abandoned or close to being condemned and hers was one of the only few left on their street that was still occupied. Mainly because dad didn’t have enough money to move them and there was nothing else they could afford. She was walking behind the station house when she heard someone crying, like a small child. She walked around to the front of the building and saw a woman standing at the ticket counter talking to the agent. Close to the edge of the platform there was a small boy, maybe around 3 or 4 years old. He was dressed real fancy in nice new clothes bought from a store in town. All she ever got to wear were old items from the Salvation Army store or the donation boxes at church. She noticed a red spot on his leg and figured a mosquito or something else had bit him which is why he was crying. Snot was running down his nose, dripping on his new shirt which made her angry. He was just a kid, didn’t really know any better but it irked her that he was all clean & nice, messing up his neat clothes while she was dirty & dressed in hand-me-downs. He noticed her as she walked closer and smiled, gurgling and trying to babble at her. She shushed him and motioned for him to follow her as she walked backwards towards the woods. He slowly made his way down the steps as she looked towards the counter…neither his mother nor the ticket agent were looking in their direction. He caught up to her but tripped on a small branch and started crying again.
His mother yelled at him without even turning around “Be quiet Tommy, I’m almost done!”
Brenda smiled & reached out to him “Don’t be afraid Tommy, we’re gonna go play in the woods. Wouldn’t you like that?” He nodded at her smiling his toothy grin as he took her hand and she led him away.

The police had been looking for Tommy for 3 days before they found his body in the woods, buried in a small shallow grave covered with leaves. Something had been gnawing on his face…part of his nose was missing and there were bite marks on his lips and cheeks. Several fingers were missing and part of his left leg was gone. It made the news all over town and everyone around came for the funeral, Brenda included but her father was conspicuously absent. She watched Tommy’s mother, sobbing uncontrollably while the man behind her held her steady. It was probably Tommy’s father. He was handsome, well-dressed & you could see the pain in his face as he tried to hold himself together. Suddenly she recognized him…he was a well-known lawyer whose face was plastered on several billboards through town. If she had known that then maybe she wouldn’t have done all those things to Tommy. But then she realized it never would have mattered. She had been so angry, so hurt…she needed to inflict pain on something else. Or someone. Tommy had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He never even saw it coming…he was so clumsy falling over everything as they walked away & crying that she knew his mom would come looking soon so she picked him up and ran, carrying him deeper into the woods. She sat him down on the ground and he was momentarily distracted by a frog that came hopping by, long enough for her to find a large rock nearby that wasn’t too heavy for her to pick up. He was crawling along the ground slowly when the rock came down hard on the back of his head. She knew all about soft spots on babies heads and figured as long as she got close to it then maybe he would be dazed enough so he wouldn’t struggle too much. He never even screamed…it killed him instantly which made her even angrier. She wanted him to suffer and she couldn’t even hear the sounds of his screams when she pulled out her pocketknife and stabbed his lifeless body over and over until her hand ached. She had sat & cried a bit out of frustration before trying to find something to hide him with. The rock she had found had a sharp, flat edge on it and she used it to dig out a small depression in the ground to put his body in. The ground was covered in old leaves which she used to cover the grave. She stamped them down to put more & more on before falling back, exhausted. The whole day played over & over in her head but she felt no better than before. The anger she’d felt towards her father was just deepening so if this didn’t cull her need to inflict pain she wasn’t sure if anything would. She had slowly gotten to her feet before walking back towards the house to find her dad still asleep. All the feelings she had for him earlier were gone. He was just a sack of meat that caused her pain and he needed to pay for it. She had found the large butcher knife in the kitchen and sat on the coffee table in front of him, plotting, looking over him slowly trying to figure out where to cut him first. Somehow she needed to incapacitate him so he wouldn’t move much or make a lot of noise. Back in the kitchen she found some duct tape and a long extension cord…he was so drunk he didn’t even flinch when she placed the tape over his mouth and tied the cord around his stomach and the chair.

By the time they found his body, several days after Tommy’s funeral, she was long gone. Someone had called the cops because she had missed some school and he was found still tied to his chair. The knife was protruding from his face, lodged deep in his left eye but he’d been stabbed 47 times, 3 fingers sliced off and his left ear was missing. They never found it, or her.

THE QUEEN OF HELL

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